


Kuroo/Kenma/Hinata Drabbles

by freakofnature



Series: Haikyuu!! Drabble Fics [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1815172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakofnature/pseuds/freakofnature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompts written for kurokenhina aka my ot3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> prompt [all1sees](http://www.all1sees.tumblr.com)
> 
> as usual find me at [kozumekuroo](http://www.kozumekuroo.tumblr.com)

  **#fluff #kuroo srsly has to hate being the oldest #kageyama is hinata's bestie #kinda #kinda like how spongebob and squidward are #except a little more friendly than that b/c haha yeah volleyball for three years together** **  
**

“Kuroo, I think. We have a problem.” For once, Kenma didn’t have a remote controller in his hands, nor was he playing a game on his phone. Instead he was staring at a series of images from the third person in their polyamorous relationship. The third person. With another person. “Kuroo.” Gold eyes glanced up, wide and worried, and when dark brown met his, he tossed his phone up to the raven, his hands clenching and unclenching. “I didn’t…I didn’t think.” His breath hitched and without words, Kuroo slid off the bed to join Kenma on the floor, pulling the pudding haired boy against his side.

 

“Calm down, you’re freaking out before he tells us anything,” Kuroo kissed his boyfriend’s temple and rubbed his arm slowly, “Do you want me to talk to him?” He felt the jerky nod, “Do you also want to talk to him?” a slower nod.

 

“Can we talk to him together?” Kenma shifted away slightly and looked at Kuroo, his gold eyes alight with worry and concern for _Shouyo_ and it warmed Kuroo’s heart to Kenma’s heart melt for someone other than him.

 

“Maybe. We’ll see okay? But for now, don’t worry about it.”

* * *

Hinata sighed and plopped on the couch, a smile on his face. Today was a good day with Kageyama. They saw this super scary movie—he wanted to bring Kenma but the blond was all like ‘in the middle of the final battle maybe tomorrow’—but Hinata had tickets for  _today_ and texted Kageyama. There was nothing going on between them. Not that he thought. Kageyama would talk about the girls he liked in college—they were different majors so it was hard to catch up sometimes—and the different guys he thought were really attractive. They would go hiking when Kuroo was  _too busy_ and go do other things when Kenma ignored him. He was happy with Kageyama. Hell, he had vented to the other boy, and when he got a “If you’re ever that unhappy you can come live with me. I don’t like you but whatever.”

 

It had made his heart soar. There was nothing wrong with Kuroo, or with Kenma. But they…weren’t always around. Yeah, that was it. If Kenma didn’t want to do something, then there wasn’t a way to make him do it—unless he was lured with sex and good food. Kuroo…Kuroo was different. He was the oldest, in the last year of college. He was stressed out on the worst days, and the aftermath made him tired. Hinata was the youngest and was naturally full of energy the others didn’t have.

 

“Kenma is upset with you, ya know,” Startled, Hinata’s head whipped to the side and saw Kuroo settling himself on the couch, a tired frown on his face, “Those pictures…”

 

“Oh?” that was new. Kenma usually didn’t care much for what he did, really, “Of me and Kageyama?” Kuroo nodded, and with a shrug, Hinata turned back around and grabbed the remote, “Not my issue, Kuroo. He’ll get over it.”

 

“Are you happier with him?” Kuroo’s voice sounded more than tired. It sounded worried and upset—that Hinata would do something without them—wounded, even, “Are we not what is right for you?”

 

“No? Yes?” Frowning, Hinata tossed the remote next to him and pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes, “I don’t _know_. I don’t, I just. I feel like a child around you guys, and it’s upsetting, you know?” Amber eyes met dark brown and with a jerk of his head, Kuroo motioned for the younger boy to come closer to him.

 

He had always been a cuddler when it came to Kuroo, and even though a part of him wanted to have this conversation face to face, he knew that he cried way too easily all the time, and maybe not having to look at his boyfriend’s concerned gaze would help him _not_ cry.

 

“What’s on your mind, Sho?” Kuroo tucked the ginger against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist, “Kenma isn’t home, he has lab today,” Hinata made a pitying sound—Kenma wasn’t a fan of his lab partner and complained about him all the time (in his Kenma way)—and let out a long sigh.

 

“You both make me feel so young. Like I’m not two years younger, but five. Maybe because I’m not as smart, or my profession isn’t as tough as yours, but I have free time and you don’t,” Hinata felt Kuroo tighten his arms and he turned his head to kiss at the other’s collarbone, “I mean, we used to go biking, you and me. Biking and hiking and running. And I loved it. But you got busy…and Kenma has his video games and you _know_ you can’t pull him away from those easily.” He felt more than heard Kuroo sigh, and Hinata took a deep breath. It hitched. He tried again. It stuttered and cracked and before he could mutter a sorry, Kuroo was shifting him around and Hinata was clinging to the front of his shirt, breathing uneven and messy, face splotched red, but no tears.

 

“He wanted to actually see that movie with you. I assume you had already gotten tickets?” Kurro’s large hands rubbed up and down the smaller boy’s back, and Hinata nodded.

 

“A couple weeks back. He told me. He wanted to see it when it came out,” he hiccupped and sobbed all at once and it left him breathless for a moment, “I waited a week so it wouldn’t be so packed and then I figured out which day would work…but he didn’t want to go. And I had them…”

 

“So you called Kageyama and went with him.” Kuroo finished his sentence, sighing once again. Being the oldest had its perks, but dealing with emotional first years was not one of them. He loved Hinata and he loved Kenma, but their flaws would just conflict in the stupidest and nerve wracking ways. “Shouyo?” he heard the boy hum against his chest, “I get where you’re coming from. We aren’t the easiest people to date, I’m sure. But we do want you to be happy with us too. It’s not a one way street, kid. Tell us what you want.” He hugged the boy closer to him and ignored Hinata’s whine of discomfort (he was told his hugs were too hard but his boyfriends were just complainers). “Tell me in advance that you want to go biking, or hiking. I’ll set time aside for you. Kenma is the same way. If you had told him you had the tickets, he would have stopped everything for you.” Releasing the ginger haired boy, Kuroo waited until Hinata was looking at him before he kissed him, “that boy is so in love with you it hurts to look at sometimes.”

 

“You love me too, right?” He sounded so small, so pathetic and lonely and so much like the child he _thought_ he had grown out of. But Kuroo only smiled at him—Kuroo’s smiles were as rare as Kenma shouting—and kissed him again. And again. Until Hinata was laughing and smiling. “Thanks, Kuroo.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt given to me by anon. can be summed up with: Hinata is sick and says dumb things to his boyfriends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fairly positive yall know my url by now and i do dislike having to put the code in every time so. yes.

  **#sick hinata #fluff #Kuroo is a law student if that is suprising idk whyy #i mean like? he smirks and does his own thing he would totally be a great lawyer**

          Hinata groaned and lifted his head just a bit, turning to the side and letting out another sickening, wet couch. Kuroo winced softly out of sympathy, rubbing the ginger’s back with soothing motions. In the back of his mind, he hoped Kenma had gotten his text message to buy salted crackers and some chicken broth as they had none. Kuroo was known for rarely getting sick, while Kenma only a few times a year. They had thought Hinata had a fairly strong immune system since the ginger had taken care of them when they were sick without getting sick, but whatever this was—Kuroo assumed a fever, but he didn’t exactly know, he wasn’t a doctor—it had his beautiful little Hinata stomach down on the bed, pained whimpers coming from his dry lips.

          “Sho, do you want some water?” his hands carded through soft ginger locks, and Hinata grunted out a ‘no’, sinking into the bed some more as Kuroo continued his actions. “Food?” another no. Kuroo almost jokingly asked if he wanted a kiss, but he knew Hinata would move to stare at him, unamused and amber eyes unfocused, so he held back.

          About a half hour passed when Hinata coughed again and groaned loudly, alerting Kuroo to something _else_ being wrong with the boy. “Kenma should be home soon, Shouyo, what’s wrong?”

          “Don’t feel good,” he heard the slurred words and held back the snap of _no shit_ because he knew Hinata was well aware that he didn’t feel good. If he was voicing the obvious, then something was wrong that Kuroo couldn’t see.

          “Well I’m not gonna know unless you tell me, kid.” When the small boy shifted over to his back and coughed again, Kuroo moved away, slipping off the bed and making his way to the other side in case Hinata needed some help.

          “Nuh, move Kuroo.” Hinata coughed again, wetter and with dark brown eyes widening in realization, he stepped to the side as Hinata slipped off the bed—almost literally—and wobbled quickly to the master bathroom. Not even a minute later, the sound of retching could be heard from where the older man stood, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

          “I’m gon’ get you some water, kay, kid?” he got a muffled ‘okay’ and more gross sounds, so taking that as his cue to fucking leave, Kuroo made his way to the kitchen to get his sick boyfriend some water.

          At that moment, Kenma came home and thankfully it was with the supplies he had asked for. Setting the glass on the counter, Kuroo made his way to the doorway and kissed the blond’s temple, “Welcome home,” he muttered, laughing when Kenma murmured it back.

          “How is he?” Kenma had joined him in the kitchen, putting a few salted crackers on a paper towel before following Kuroo to the bathroom.

          “He was throwing up when I left him to get some water, I don’t know though.” They found Hinata dozing on the seat of the toilet and with soft gentle movements, Kenma crouched next to him and woke up him up, one hand rubbing soothing circles on Hinata’s cheek while the other set the crackers down and accepted Kuroo’s glass of water.

          “Shouyo,” Kenma spoke softly most of the time, so when his voice got even quieter, it was hard to hear him. Would be hard for a normal person. Kuroo had grown up with this soft speaking, gaming nerd, and Hinata had been dating him for the past five years, they could hear Kenma speak even in the loudest of rooms. “Sho, drink some water and eat these crackers.”

          Hinata mumbled something neither of them could understand, but luckily there were no real complaints about drinking and eating. Kenma continued to talk to him about how his day went at work—Kuroo had skipped his college classes when he woke up to Hinata groaning in bed and shooed the blond out the door, telling him he could take care of it—and Hinata smiled here and there, but there was very little sound in the bathroom other than Kenma’s quiet voice.

          “Kuroo,” the raven perked up, having sat down with his head between his knees and his back against the wall, “I’m going to go change. Watch him for a little bit and I’ll grab your law books while I’m in the room.” As Kenma passed him, Kuroo thanked him and stood up so he could move a bit closer to Hinata.

          “Hey, Shou. You feeling better?” Hinata’s eyes had closed, and putting a hand to the other’ s forehead, Kuroo frowned upon feeling the heat, “Kenma can you grab a cool washcloth too?” he called out and got a hum in reply. Turning back to the too warm boy, Kuroo gently roused him, “Shouyo, take off your shirt, it’ll make you cooler.”

          “Not right now, Kuroo. ‘M sick. No sex.” Snorting, Kuroo did somehow manage to get the boy’s shirt off him, and pressed his cool hands against pale skin, “Kuroooo, you’re hands are ice. Antarctica ice. You flew there and flew back just to put them on my skin, yep.” Kuroo laughed at that, leaning down to kiss in between Hinata’s shoulder blades.

          “You’re so fuckin’ delusional, stop talking,” glancing up, he saw Kenma with his books and a couple pillows, a cold wash cloth between his teeth, “Thanks, Kenma.” The blond hummed as Kuroo took the stuff from his hands, cracking his law book open with a huff—once again wondering what he wanted to be a damn lawyer.

          “Kuroo is the best.” Hinata muttered from his pillow, which Kenma had guided him down to, throwing a blanket over him and putting the cold cloth on his forehead, “Kuroo is hard lines and harsh words, but really, _really_ cuddly,” Kenma was staring at him, a smile fighting to appear on his face. Kuroo on the other hand wanted to shut the boy up. “Kuroo gives the best morning kisses,” Amber eyes cracked open and glanced at Kenma, a dopey grin on his face. “He kisses you too right?”

          “Course. Like he would like me walk out the door without a kiss.” Kuroo wanted to melt into a pile of nothingness. His boyfriends were awful. It was better being single. Yep. Even after five years of comfortable bliss, this right here, this sick and hazy minded Hinata was making him want to just walk out (not really though, and if the boy wasn’t sick, Kuroo would have likely kissed him quiet and replaced those words with soft moans instead).

          “Good cause Kenma is a good kisser too…not hard lines, he’s soft.” Kuroo smirked at the other, sticking out his tongue and only smiling innocently when Kenma scowled at him, “Kenma is romannnntic,” that made the blond blush and Kuroo couldn’t hold it back anymore, cackling and slapping his knee with a loud smack.

          “Go to sleep Shouyo. You’ll feel better if you do.” Kenma was looking away from the ginger, fiddling with the hem of his oversized shirt—it was Kuroo’s and the raven knew for a fact that the blond only had boxers underneath that—a blush painting his cheeks.

          “Kay…I love you Kurooo and Kenma….best boyfriends _ever_.”

* * *

 

          “Hey Sho, what do you remember from a few nights back when you got sick?” Kuroo snaked an arm around the shorter boy, a grin on his face.

          “I was hot and cold and Kenma kept making me eat and drink stuff even though I threw it up like an hour later,” Hinata commented without missing a beat, tilting his head back to look at the taller boy, “Why?”

          “Kuroo wanted to know if you remembered what you said to us,” Kenma’s voice carried from the couch, sounding softly over the noise of the television, “Apparently you don’t recall it.”

          “What? I said stuff? What kind of stuff? Dumb stuff?” Hinata turned in Kuroo’s embrace and lifted onto his tip toes, hands on the other’s chest, “Tell me, Kuroo, what did I say?”

          The raven smiled and pecked his little ginger on the lips, a smirk on his face, “Nothing, kid. Shoulda remembered.” He laughed, and when Hinata turned to Kenma for help, the blond just rose an eyebrow and told him it was his lose.

          Hinata just hoped it hadn’t been anything too embarrassing. That would have sucked.   


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> his life wasn’t the best, but he was trying every day to make it just a little bit better, and maybe one day he would truly be happy where he was

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt by the lovely pimp-city! thank babe for all ur SUPER ANGSTY PROMPTS LIKE DAMN. 
> 
> as always find me at kozumekuroo and talk to me there or something.

  **#warning for alcohol addiction #i really have no tags for this one #why do i always have to hurt Hinata?**

 

          Most of the time, it was fine. He had school, he had to study, he had to take notes, he had to read his book, do his homework. He didn’t have time to worry. To think about the friends he left behind. Or, honestly, the friends who left _him_ behind. And he knew, he knew it was his fault. He didn’t study enough in high school, didn’t take good notes, didn’t care about anything except volleyball. Pushed off studying for more practice, harder runs, longer stretches. Back then, volleyball was his everything, and he didn’t understand how it wasn’t his teammates ‘everything’ as well. It was too late when he realized he didn’t want to do volleyball for the rest of his life. His friends went on to a better college—colleges actually because not everyone attended the same school—while he was left in the dust.

          He didn’t make friends at college. Didn’t have the _time_. Study harder, more notes, stay up late for tests that were in weeks. Do the assignments beforehand. If the Hinata from three years—even two years—back could see him now, he was sure his past self would laugh at him. _So school oriented, I don’t need school I have volleyball_. Two years ago he was naïve. And he hates, to this day, that he didn’t listen to any of his friends.

          Weeks ahead of his classes, Hinata took a break one weekend, stretched out on his bed. He comtemplated texting his friends, but he knew they had harder classes, less time, more studying, then he had to do. And he felt bad that he was the slacker. That they still treated him with such kindness and didn’t berate him for being so dumb in high school. It was nice, but it also made him angry. Hearing the dorm room close softly, Hinata gave a nod to his roommate, humming an affirmative when the blond boy informed him of his nightly activities. They could have been friends, if Hinata had wanted to go to this school, and was okay with not having _his_ friends with him. His roommate was funny and witty and full of energy. He balanced school and fun in a way that Hinata couldn’t, wouldn’t. It filled him with a deep sadness, a heart aching sadness, and a red hot rage that _this was all his fault_.

          And that was how he found himself at the bar for the first time. He got hammered enough to not know where his dorm was, but luckily was able to call his roommate and get back to his bed. He didn’t throw up the next morning, but the headache he got from not drinking enough water was almost enough to keep him away from hard drinking. _Almost_.

          That bar became the place he hid away to when he got too upset, too sad, too stressed out. About anything, or everything. He would down shot after shot, after shot. And chase it with some god awful tasting hard liquor that Hinata wasn’t quite sure if it was _meant_ to be swallowed. But as long as he didn’t remember the night when he woke up, and as long as he woke up in his bed (he counted the steps from the bar to the dorm one sober day and commited it to memory), he could care less what he did. He wasn’t sad for that period of time. He was carefree and happy when he was drunk. And soon it became a nightly thing, a daily thing, until he was still drunk when he woke up the next morning, skipped his classes, and smuggled bottle after bottle into the dorm. There were days he didn’t shower, didn’t speak, and only moved to pee or retrieve another bottle. He didn’t care what he got his hands on, wine, beer, whiskey. At one point, he acquired a bottle of Everclear, and it was the only time Hinata remembered puking from alcohol. He looked at the bottle and cringed when he read it was 95% proof, vowing to never buy it again. Unless it was flavored. On the pro side, it got him hammered fairly quickly. On the con side, it tasted like shit.

          One morning he didn’t wake up in his bed. He woke up in an alley. A brightly lit—due to it being noon—damp and fishy smelling alley. The walls looked like they had seen better days, and Hinata _felt_ like he had seen better days. His eyes felt swollen, gritty, raw. His lip was split, his muscles sore. It hurt to put pressure on his foot, let alone walk. But he was tired, and his bed sounded like a heaven. So he managed, somehow, to get back to his dorm, passing out in the same clothes he woke up in.

          It was a black eye. He managed to get a black eye. Squinting in the mirror, Hinata pressed the cold compress against his upper cheek, hissing softly at the pressure it put against his eye. He wasn’t going to go out tonight. He needed his rest, he had some homework he should have done _weeks_ ago—he was barely keeping up with his classes, his hard earned A’s were slipping to B’s—but when dusk rolled around, Hinata found himself walking to a bar farther down the road. Miles, in fact. It was going to be a bitch to get home that evening, but he could have cared less.

          Shots didn’t sound all that wonderful to him, so Hinata opted to start out slow, ordering pint after pint of beer until the world around him was hazy and when he moved too fast, it spun around for him.

          “Hey kid, I think you need to slow your roll,” he heard the voice, deep and gravely and it struck something in him. He was sure he knew that voice, but his eyes were heavy and his lips were occupied by a cool bottle against them, “Shorty, did you hear me?” if he was sober, he wouldn’t have let the comment get to him. But he was buzzed—closer to very drunk but he never knew his limits really—and amber eyes snapped open to glare at the stranger, only to have the words die on his tongue.

          “K-Kuroo?” if it was possible, Hinata shrank in on himself, protecting the bottle of booze against his chest.

          “Oh _shit_ , Hinata?” he watched as Kuroo took a step back, and then frowned before approaching the small boy, easily plunking the beer from the ginger’s fingers, “What the fuck are you doing here? You’re not from around here, and what the _fuck_ happened to your eye?”

          Making a wrong move, Hinata attempted to grab the beer from Kuroo’s hands, choking on a sob when it was held out of his reach, “I don’t know, I don’t know, give it back Kuroo,” he was whining, he knew he was whining. But he needed to drink. He felt sick, felt off, felt _wrong_. Kuroo was in front of him, after months—almost a year—of no contact. “Kuroo, please. Give it back.”

          There was silence between them before the raven huffed out a long sigh, handing the mostly filled bottle back to its owner. As Hinata drank greedily from it, draining over half in a few gulps, he heard Kuroo ask for another beer, and how much it would all come out to. He dimly realized that he was getting free alcohol, but before he could thank his friend, his bottle was gone, and Kuro was shoving another in his hands, telling him it was his last. That was okay though, he felt warm and fuzzy, so one more would be okay. What he _wasn’t_ okay with was when Kuroo started pulling at him, saying something about going back to his place. To fix him up or something. It hurt though, every step, the added pressure to his feet and legs and body.

          When Kenma saw him, the controller in his hands fell to the ground, and Hinata watched with blurry vision as his friend hugged him tight, fussing over him in ways that he missed so _much_. It was while all three of them were in the bathroom, pressing bandages to the various cuts Hinata had and disinfecting others with rubbing alcohol (which he was tempted to drink, but Kuroo kept it far from his reach) that he started to cry. It was Kenma who reached forward and hugged him, Kuroo who put everything away and then carried him to bed; both of them listening to his drunken babbling and apologies, petting his hair and telling him to sleep. And when he did, they tucked him into the covers and slept on either side of him.

* * *

 

          They all decided it would be best if Hinata stayed there for a while, and Kuroo got the ginger to agree that he would not touch another drop of alcohol for at least the next year or two. Detox, the raven had called it. So while Kuroo and Hinata left to gather his meager belongings back at his dorm, Kenma was given the task of cleaning out all the alcoholic drinks from their household and stashing them away in a safe Hinata would never know the code to.

          It was only a week into his detox when Hinata remembered that they had rubbing alcohol. _Alcohol_. Kuroo and Kenma weren’t home, and after searching high and low in the bathroom, he found the half-filled bottle, coughing at the burn it gave him as he chugged as much as he could. The haze hit him quick this time around, and he staggered to the floor, groaning when at the cool tile against his skin. He felt sick, but he felt _good_. So much better than he had felt in a long time.

          Kuroo was the one who found him, weakly gripping the plastic bottle that clearly read _rubbing alcohol_. He didn’t freak out, freaking out wouldn’t help the situation. But with shaking hands, and wide eyes he did wake Hinata up and force him to throw everything up, hugging the ginger boy as he cried himself to sleep afterwards.

* * *

 

          Thankfully nothing ever happened again concerning alcohol. Hinata slowly regained the energy to study again, and Kenma helped him with his study habits so he could get more out of his study sessions and could do less of them. Kuroo cooked for them almost every night—and when he couldn’t Hinata would (since Kenma wasn’t the best cook). Month by month, week by week, Hinata found the courage to contact his friends, after a rather vocal fight with Kuroo about how he felt when he didn’t talk to them. Everyone was glad to see he was doing okay and before he knew it, they were all hanging out again. He steered clear of the alcohol, and when he craved it, Kenma would sit next to him and grip his hand, laying his head on his shoulder.

          They became Hinata’s two pillars. His strength, his resolve. He thought about drinking often, but every time he remembered the time when Kuroo found him passed out with rubbing alcohol, his teary eyes, flushed cheeks, shaky hands. And whenever he got the urge to relapse, it always passed when he thought of how much pain he put two of his best friends through, and vowed that he would never do that to them again.

          After the first year, Kuroo kissed him quickly, telling him it was a present for doing so well in his studies and combating his alcohol addiction. Hinata just smiled and thanked him with a hug, feeling Kuroo’s laugh throughout his body.

          His life wasn’t perfect, it was far from it, but he had his friends by his side. And he knew they would do anything for him, and that was enough for him. It gave him courage to keep talking to them, knowing they were still his friends, even though he no longer went to school with them. His friends, especially Kuroo and Kenma, gave him strength to keep working hard at school, and also battling his addiction. So yeah, his life wasn’t the best, but he was trying every day to make it just a little bit better, and maybe one day he would truly be happy where he was. But for now, he would just suffer the consequences of his actions and make the best of it. It was all he could do.


End file.
